


Points of Reference

by lamardeuse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John loved hanging out at the geek parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Points of Reference

“What do you _mean _you’ve never heard of Doctor Who?”

John quirked an eyebrow at the assembled partygoers, who were staring at him with a mixture of pity, revulsion and abject horror over the back of the couch in Zelenka’s quarters.  A dozen of the best minds on Atlantis were clustered around Rodney’s laptop, which was currently playing the show Rodney had bribed Novak to bring back with them on the _Daedalus’ _latest run. 

He loved hanging out at the geek parties; it was astonishingly easy to mess with their heads.

Shrugging indifferently, he said, “I guess I’ve heard of it.  That’s the one where the Earth gets blown up and the guy takes his towel with him into space?”  He snapped his fingers.  “Yeah, there’s a guy with two heads!  What’s his name?  Um, uh, Zeepod, right?”

Rodney looked as though he’d been shot through the heart.  “You did not just confuse _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ with _Doctor Who_.  Tell me you did not just do that.”

John shrugged again.  “I guess I never went for British sci-fi much.  Now, _Battlestar Galactica_, on the other hand…”

A collective and completely predictable groan arose from the throng.  John bit back a grin.

“It figures,” Simpson scoffed, then muttered, “macho seventies claptrap” and turned her back on John.

“Hey, that’s not fair!  That show was intellectual,” John protested.  “You know…it had all that mythology.”

Zelenka looked at Rodney.  “Well?  Do we try to educate him or throw him out in the street to fend for himself?”

Before he could hear Rodney’s answer to that, he got a call from Lorne on his comm link.  “Sorry, kids, gotta go,” he told them all regretfully.  “Be sure to fill me in on what I miss.”  Debating with himself for a split second, he added over his shoulder, “Although I will say this.  That Christopher Eccleston is a hell of a lot sexier than Tom Baker.”

The stunned silence that followed him out the door was _so _worth the potential gossip.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
When he finished conferring with Lorne, the party was doubtless long over, so he went straight to his quarters.  He wasn’t completely surprised to find Rodney standing in the hall waiting for him.

After he’d followed John inside and the doors had shut behind them, Rodney crossed his arms and said, “I never know how to take you.”

John bit back the obvious rejoinder to that.  Discarding his jacket, he said instead, “I would have thought a smart guy like you would have me all figured out by now.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Rodney said tartly, “I tend to focus my efforts on things that actually _matter_.  I leave dissections of the psyche to the mumbo-jumbo artists like Heightmeyer.”

“Uh-huh,” John said.  “So then why are you here?”

Rodney raised his chin.  “Because you annoy me.”

John thought about it for a second, then reached for the hem of his t-shirt and stripped it off in one smooth motion. 

Rodney’s eyes dipped to John's bare chest.  His mouth opened slightly, then slammed shut again.

_Bingo, _John thought, unable to suppress a knowing smile.

“What,” Rodney said slowly, “are you doing?”

“Taking a shower,” John said casually, reaching for the button on his pants.  “I always shower before I go to bed.”

“Are you trying to—” Rodney waved a hand in the general direction of John’s dick.

John arched an eyebrow. 

“—ah, cloud the—issue?” Rodney finished weakly.

John took a step toward him.  “What issue would that be, Rodney?”

Rodney scowled.  His jaw was so tightly clenched he could probably crush small Japanese cars between his molars.

“Oh, right,” John said, popping the button and sliding the zipper down.  “You’re annoyed with me.”  He pushed the pants past his hips, letting them drop to the floor.

“Erk,” Rodney said.

John stepped out of the puddle of his trousers and closed the distance between them.  Rodney’s eyes were a little wild now, and John decided he liked them that way.  “Let me guess.  You’re annoyed that I don’t fit neatly into the box you made for me when we met.  You’re annoyed I’m not as dumb as I pretend to be sometimes.  You’re annoyed that your expectations keep getting subverted.  But most of all you’re annoyed it’s taken you this long to find out I’m not as straight as you thought I was.”

Rodney just stared at him with that same deer in the headlights look.  This was starting to get _fun_.

John leaned forward and brushed his lips against Rodney’s earlobe, enjoying the shiver that it produced.  “Well, Rodney,” John murmured, “I only have two words for you.  Don’t.  Panic.”

“Oh, God,” Rodney groaned, and then John’s head was being held between two large hands as Rodney grabbed him and kissed him hard.

And right then, John decided that all those studies had been wrong.  Hours and hours of television viewing in his childhood hadn’t turned him into an idiot or a sociopath; in fact, they’d proved to be very useful in his adult life.  He’d learned a lot from those old SF shows, even if they had gotten it mostly wrong about how fucking _insane _the universe really was.

And then Rodney’s hands slid under the waistband of his boxers, and John decided it was time to bring out the big guns.

Nuzzling Rodney’s collarbone through his shirt, he whispered,  “I know what TARDIS stands for.”

Rodney made a noise that wasn’t even human and started humping John’s leg like an amorous poodle.

_Oh, yeah,_ John thought, grinning.  _Very useful._

**Author's Note:**

> First published October 2005.


End file.
